


Nifflers and Suitcases

by NeverAndAlways



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Childbirth, Established Relationship, Gen, I just have a lot of feelings for these two okay, M/M, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Pregnancy, Protective Original Percival Graves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-02 03:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10935675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways
Summary: I was planning out some things for 'How I Love You', and my muse sort of threw this at me. It's Perseus' birth, but with Graves still in the picture. Whether this is pre- or post-Grindelwald, or whether that scenario ever happened, is up to your interpretation. :)





	1. Chapter 1

When Newt Scamander is around, quiet is a relative thing. Or a sliding scale at the very least. For a man who doesn't talk much, Newt can make a lot of noise. At the moment, it's sort of noise by proxy: the niffler's loose in the apartment. And Newt's down in his suitcase, which means his boyfriend gets to chase the beast down by himself.

Percival skids around a corner and grabs for the niffler, but only catches the tip of its tail. It squeaks in protest, makes a sharp turn, and proceeds to scale the wall. He swears.

"No you don't, you little bastard--"

He grabs for it again. The niffler jumps onto a nearby shelf instead and scuttles away, bumping into a vase and a picture frame on the way. Percival catches and rights the vase before it falls, but it costs him several seconds. By the time he looks around again, the niffler is halfway across the room. He sprints after it; the next minute plays out a bit like a Tom & Jerry cartoon, minus the anvils. When he trips on the rug and ends up sprawled in the middle of the room, Percival decides he's had enough. The niffler is headed up to a shelf with a few galleons it found under the couch, so he takes the opportunity to pull his wand out of his pocket.

"Alright, I guess we'll do this the hard way.  _Immobulus_." a flash of silver, and the niffler tumbles back to the floor. It lays motionless while Percival picks himself up. He ambles over to it, relieves it of its prize, and picks it up. It gives him a reproachful glare for his trouble. "Hey, you brought this on yourself. Don't look at me like that." Percival tucks the little thief under his arm like a football and sets off to find his boyfriend.

 

* * *

 

 

"Newt?"

Percival climbs down the suitcase ladder one-handed, still holding the niffler. The supply shed is messy as always; he has to pick his way around bags of feed and empty buckets to get to the door. And when he gets outside, he almost trips on the snoozing nundu. He gingerly steps over it, and calls for Newt again.

"Newt, where are you?"

"I'm here."

Newt's voice comes from the graphorn habitat. He heads toward it. The big female graphorn is stretched out lazily on her cliff, and next to her is Newt, in the process of levering himself (and his belly) upright. Percival helps him up. Then he gestures to the niffler and is just starting to explain when Newt catches sight of it.

"Oh," he says calmly, "you found him."

"He stole some galleons, and I was just -- what?" Percival stutters to a halt.

"You didn't hear me calling, and I couldn't get back up the ladder, so I sent him instead." he gently takes the niffler from Percival, takes out his wand, and touches it to the niffler's back. " _Finite_." immediately the niffler rights itself, shakes, and scampers down Newt's leg to the ground, where it disappears into the bushes. Newt turns a lopsided smile on Percival, who's still confused.

"So why did you call me? D'you need something?"

"No, no, but there is something I need to tell you." Newt sits back down, dangling his legs off the side of the cliff. Percival does the same. The graphorn rumbles behind them. Newt spends a few moments just massaging his belly, as though gathering his thoughts.

"Newt?" Percival prompts him gently. "What did you need to tell me?"

Newt smiles a small, cryptic smile, as though he's about to tell a secret. He turns to look at Percival. "We've got a birthday party to get ready for." Percival frowns at this, and his smile widens. "I'm in labor, Percy."

Percival's eyes widen. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be."

Percival's breath hitches. "What...what do you need? What can I do?"

"We'll have to call Jenny eventually..." Newt gives him another, rather sly, smile. "For now, I need  _you_ not to worry. I'll be fine. The process is just the same for humans as it is for animals; it's just a day's work."

His boyfriend smirks. "I think it's slightly different. You've seen it, but you've never done it before."

Newt's easy confidence falters. You can see it in his eyes. Those walls go right back up, though, before Percival can comment on it. He puts on a much shakier smile. "I'll be alright."

Percival leans over and plants a kiss on Newt's ear. It's the closest part of him he can reach. Newt smiles again, a little more genuine. "Yes, you will."

 

ooOO00OOoo


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys! It's getting toward the end of the school term, so I haven't had much time for writing, but I didn't want to make you wait a super long time.

"Hello?"

A female voice drifts through the suitcase. Too lilting to be Queenie or Tina; the creatures nearest the supply shed perk up their ears in suspicion.

A distracted-looking Percival emerges from one of the rooms. It's smaller than the rest, and the only one with a proper door. His button-up shirt is coming untucked; the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He steps around a wandering mooncalf and hurries to the supply shed. A slight, slender-faced young woman steps out when he opens the door. She's sharply dressed and carries a well-worn carpet bag.

"Jenny. Hello."

"Hello." she looks around as though trying to take it all in at once. "I got your owl."

"Oh, good. Aebba's not always the most reliable, but she's the only one I've got...watch your step." he leads her around a spilled bag of pellets, which the mooncalf is picking through. She gives it a long look.

The room is actually quite nice, when they get there. Like a small studio apartment. A couch at one end, a sink in the corner, and a bed and nightstand in the middle, lit by a single ceiling lamp. Newt is sitting on the couch, wearing a nightshirt. He looks up as they approach -- and frowns. The wizard climbs to his feet with some effort and claps his hands loudly.

" _No,_ you know you're not allowed in here, go on. Go home." he says severely. Jenny and Percival exchange a bewildered glance. She looks back at Newt. He claps again and starts striding toward the door. "Go on, leave it.  _Out_." he keeps walking, making a beeline for Jenny...and then walks right past her to the door. " _Out_ , you little menace." Jenny turns around just in time to see the gray, furry back end of a mooncalf disappear through the doorway. Newt says something more that she doesn't quite catch, then shuts the door and turns around. His lopsided smile is a bit tired around the edges. "Hello, Jenny. Sorry about that, he's too curious for his own good..." he shuffles back to the couch. Jenny follows him, still bemused.

"That's alright." she sets her carpet bag down by the couch, opens it, and takes out an oak wand. "How are you feeling?" she speaks with a fading Scottish accent.

Percival sits on the bed and runs his fingers through his hair. Newt lowers himself onto the couch. "Uncomfortable. Excited. Tired." he curls one hand around the lowest part of his belly, as though lifting it. "Mostly, I feel like I'm going to burst."

"I imagine you do. Looks like baby's quite low already." Jenny stands up long enough to move in front of Newt, then crouches down again. "Let's check the little one's itinerary first. May I?" she holds up her wand. When Newt nods, she touches the tip of the wand to his belly, pressing ever so slightly. The wand lights up (as do Newt's eyes -- nonverbal magic!), and she moves it around in a searching motion. Suddenly a sound comes from the wand's other end: a steady, rhythmic whooshing. The midwife smiles. "There we are. Sounds good, and by the looks of it--" her other hand gently pushes the area around the wand "--baby's in a good position, too." she pauses then, looking thoughtful. "Was that a contraction?" Newt nods. His face is drawn tight. "Easy, Newt, remember to breathe. Let it happen. Your body knows what to do."

With no small amount of effort, Newt breathes slowly and evenly through the contraction. When it passes and the midwife moves her hand from his belly, he practically goes limp and sighs, "That was a bad one."

"And you did very well," Jenny assures him. She puts her wand back in the carpet bag and turns to Percival. "Have you been timing them?"

Sheepish and surprised is an odd combination, especially on Percival. He fumbles for his pocket-watch. "Ah, no. Should we?"

"Once things start to pick up speed, yes. In the meantime--" Jenny gets to her feet "--all we can do is wait. I'd suggest walking around if you feel like it, Newt. It might help speed up the process."

Newt looks reluctant. He appears to weigh his thoughts for a moment, then starts to pick himself up. Percival gets up to help him. Across the room, there's a polite but insistent little  _scritch, scritch_ sound. The mooncalf again. Newt rolls his eyes.

"Well, there's my excuse, I suppose," he grumbles, and heads for the door.

 

ooOO00OOoo


	3. Chapter 3

The hours tick by. The small, windowless room creates a surreal feeling of being outside of time. If it weren't for Percival's pocket-watch, and the ever-shortening intervals between Newt's contractions, it would seem like no time had passed at all.

Last they checked, the watch read 6:25. It was almost midday when Newt first broke the news.

He gave up on walking about an hour ago. Said it made his back hurt too much to be worthwhile. So Percival brought a rocking chair from the occamy enclosure, and there Newt has been ever since. Rocking and breathing and breathing and rocking. He breaks his rhythm only when a contraction washes over him. Jenny is always there, but not so you'd notice it. Somehow she's able to melt into the background, in a manner of speaking, only emerging when she's needed. She seems content to leave Newt to his own devices.

Percival, on the other hand, has been at his side the whole time. The look on his face is the same one he gets during a difficult case. Closed and focused, and tense as a piano wire. He keeps an almost constant point of contact with Newt -- a hand on his shoulder, his knee, whatever he can reach. Newt accepts and even seeks out the touch, although he doesn't seem aware of his boyfriend's presence otherwise.

And speaking of presence, there's another one in the room now: Dougal has wandered in. He seems to sense that something's going on, and has parked himself at Newt's feet. His big golden eyes stare calmly up at Newt, and widen slightly when a contraction hits him. He doesn't seem alarmed. Just interested.

Another wave sweeps over Newt. He draws a sharp breath and abruptly stops rocking.

" _Damn_..." he hisses. His free hand digs into the arm of the rocking chair; his other hand closes in a vice grip around Percival's. His face contorts into a grimace.

"It's alright, Newt. Just breathe, I'm right here." Percival speaks for the first time in almost an hour. Emotion bubbles to the surface in his expression before he pushes it down again. Dougal picks up on it; he gives Percival a knowing look.

It takes almost a full minute for the contraction to wind down again. When it does, Newt relaxes his grip on both chair and boyfriend, and flexes his free hand a couple times to get some blood back into it. Percival gives him a thin smile.

"Eight minutes."

Newt groans. That's good, it's progress, but still. Feels like an eternity. His gaze drifts down, past his belly, to Dougal. His brow furrows. "Dougal? What are you doing here?" he asks groggily. Dougal startles and immediately goes invisible.

"He showed up maybe half an hour ago," says Percival, tracking the sound of Dougal's trying-to-be-sneaky footsteps. "I think he's worried about you."

"Yes, him and everyone else in this room," Newt grouses under his breath. Then, at a more normal volume, "Dougal. Come on out." a nervous pause follows. Then the demiguise reappears, at the side of the bed this time. He looks guilty. "I don't mind you being here," Newt continues, "you aren't in trouble. But if you stay, you'll have to keep out of the way, alright?" Dougal looks from Newt to Percival to Jenny and back. He nods his shaggy head, and Newt smiles. "Good boy." then he turns to Percival. "Could you help me up, please?"

Once Newt is on his feet, Percival holds him steady with a hand between his shoulders. "Where you headed?"

Newt nods to the bed, and sets off without waiting for Percival. "I want to get some rest while I still can," he explains as he goes.

"Good idea," says Jenny, melting into the foreground. "Save your strength, you'll need it later." She follows Newt to the bed, and arranges the pillows and thick down comforter into a supporting nest as he lies down. She even gets her wand from the carpet bag and conjures up a body pillow. Percival takes a seat beside him on the bed.

Once Newt is situated (and looking so cozy that Percival actually envies him a little), Jenny dims the lights and quietly sets out her supplies on the bedside table. Then she commandeers the rocking chair. She takes another item from her carpet bag: a crochet hook and a skein of yarn. Percival watches with fascination as she goes to work, producing a long woolen chain with just her hand and a few movements of the hook. The trance is only broken by Dougal tugging his sleeve. He tears his eyes away.

"Yes?"

Without letting go of his sleeve, the demiguise points to the cracked-open door. He turns back to Percival, his golden eyes wide. When Percival doesn't move, he yanks again and points more vehemently. Percival sighs and glances at his pocket-watch: 6:50. The creatures need to be fed.

"Oh. Right. Thank you, Dougal. You go on, I'll be right there."

Dougal hops down from the bed and knuckles away out the door. Percival stands up to follow him. But then Newt stirs in his sleep, and he hesitates. Looks down at his boyfriend, and his face creases with concern.

"I expect he'll be asleep for a while," says Jenny from her chair. "You go and stretch your legs, I'll call you if anything happens." Percival hints at a smile, but doesn't move. She turns and makes a gentle shooing gesture. "Go. He'll be fine."

Percival finally stands up. He ghosts one hand over Newt's shoulder in a gesture that's half reassurance, half just contact. Then he nods his thanks to Jenny and heads out of the room. And Newt snores softly.

 

ooOO00OOoo

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment -- I'd love to hear from you!


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